Born To Die
by StayBeautifulKeepItUgly
Summary: Cato's death from his point of view.


Cato looked around cautiously. Nothing. Everything was dark and dangerously quiet. There were just three of the twenty-four tributes there used to be in the arena left. Only him and the well known "star-crossed lovers from District Twelve" were left, but soon both of them would die just like the other twenty-one had. They would. And Cato'd make sure to give the audience a good show; the great finale. Then, he'd be able to go back to his District as a hero, someone who'd be admired and respected, and who'd finally get a life envied by everyone.

A sudden noise coming from the trees behind him followed by an unfamiliar and strange sound that resembled to some kind of roar, startled him, making him stiffen completely. What was that? It hadn't sounded as any wild animal Cato knew and, as an enormous wolf-like creature with four-inch long razor-sharp claws and thick dark fur appeared in front of him, he knew for sure he had never seen something similar. Cato tightened the grip on his sword involuntarily, waiting for the beast to make a move. While he fixed his eyes intently on the strange animal -if it was correct to use that term-, he couldn't help but notice the collar hanging from its throat. The moonlight lit it perfectly, showing a clearly marked number: 2. What did that mean? What sort of use could that collar possibly have? It was then when he saw them: the eyes; that pair of deep hazel eyes he had looked into so many times before; those eyes that looked so human and painfully familiar. Clove. Those were Clove's eyes. He didn't have much time to react when a bunch of similar creatures -mutts- with variedly colored furs joined the first one with the eyes and hair of his District partner; his /dead/ District partner. For the first time in his life, he was scared.

It was only when the mutts dangerously balanced on their hind legs that Cato snapped out of his shocked state. He needed to run. The Career from District Two didn't waste any time: he turned to the direction of the lake -where he knew his two victims would be- and started running as fast as his legs let him, trying his best to stay focused on the obstacles in his path and not on the creatures that were so close he could almost feel their hot stinky breath on his nape. When Cato could finally get out of those annoying woods, a pair of distant shafts caught his eye. They had seen him, but there was nothing they could do as long as he had his armor on, which would protect him from Katniss's arrows. And the boy... he was defenseless; not dangerous at all. Cato didn't stop running until he got to the Cornucopia, which he climbed clumsily in a desperate attempt to be out of those beasts's reach. The girl from District Twelve was pretty close to the golden object where the supplies and weapons used to be, when she realized she had abandoned her partner, who was limping because of the wound Cato had made him. The Career watched with rage how Katniss went back to help that useless tribute. Him and Clove were going to win together; they were going to beat those pathetic lovers from District Twelve. Now, he knew he had to win for both of them... and for his District, his family. He could almost see his father's eyes in his head, filled with pride and admiration. As soon as Loverboy got to the top of the Cornucopia, he helped Katniss up so she could be safe from the mutts too, which were so close they could have devoured her in a second. Cato saw this as the perfect chance to get finally rid of "the girl on fire", so he shoved Peeta away effortlessly and took Katniss by the braid, clenching his jaw furiously. It wasn't long before he was pushed back by Loverboy, who this time made sure his little girlfriend was safe and sound on top of the golden Cornucopia. It sickened Cato how the boy asked Katniss if she was okay; it simply drove him crazy. Not waiting one more second, he moved towards Peeta and held him firmly from behind, wrapping his right arm around his neck so tightly he could have strangled the boy in the blink of an eye. A sadistic smile appeared on his face as he saw the fear in Katniss's eyes; she tried to hide it, but Cato knew how terrified of losing her partner she actually was. However, she still held her bow firmly, pointing at the career with an arrow about to be shot. Hearing the strangled noises that came out of his victim's mouth only made Cato's cynical smile grow wider.

"Go on!"

To his surprise, his voice sounded cracked and almost breathless.

"Shoot."

He could tell the girl with the braid was trying to find a way of killing him without throwing her lame lover to the mutts as well.

"Then we both go down and you win." He continued, feeling his husky voice cracking slightly when he urged her one more time to go on.

"I'm dead anyway."

A psychotic glint appeared in his eyes as he realized the truth hidden in those three lethal words.

"I always was, right?"

He could see it perfectly now. When he considered himself dead, he was referring to his inhuman state due to all the lives he had taken.

"I couldn't tell that until now."

Poor brutal, bloody Cato was finally driven mad, but not in the expected way. He was already a mad killer, and this was a new kind of insanity; the kind that eats you alive: guilt.

"How is that? Is that what they want? Huh?"

Cato looked around as his voice became louder. He wanted to be heard. He'd be heard. The Career noticed Katniss preparing to shoot at his unexpected movement, so he quickly looked back at her with a crazy expression on his blood-covered face.

"No, nuh-uh."

He shook his head, his smile being replaced by a serious and cold expression.

"I can still do this."

Cato glared furiously at Katniss while he tightened his grip on the boy -whose struggling was becoming weaker and weaker by the time- even more.

"I can still do this." Came out the same phrase, this time almost impossible to understand.

"One more kill... It's the only thing I know how to do, bringing pride to my District..."

Oh, what would Clove say if she heard this?

"You're weak".

Yes, that's what she'd say, right? And then she'd give him that condescending smile so typical of her. Well, she'd be right. He wouldn't even be able to respond with a cocky smirk along with a "I'm not the dead one here", because he was just as dead as she was.

"Not that it matters..."

He ignored the feeling of Peeta's touch on the back of his hand. He shouldn't have. Almost immediately, he felt a sharp pain on the place where the boy's fingers used to be half a second ago. A spine-chilling howl resonated in the air, interrupting the hungry growls of the mutts for a moment. His own scream of agony. Cato moved away from Peeta, remembering he was standing on the edge of the Cornucopia when it was too late. He was supposed to go down with him... All those thoughts disappeared as soon as his back collided with the cold grass. He tried to stand up; he tried to run, but those horrific creatures were faster than him. However, Cato was a warrior; he was raised as one, and he would remain as one until there was nothing left of him. He needed to keep fighting.

So he did.

The air was filled with growls and his own screams as he hadn't stopped struggling for a second. The sound of clothes and skin being teared and torn apart joined the other spooky sounds, as if they weren't enough. The Career didn't know how much time it had passed, but it had seemed like entire weeks to him. Why didn't they devour him already? He wanted to keep fighting, but it hurt so bad... But Cato wasn't weak. He wasn't. He felt himself -or what was left of him- being dragged inside the Cornucopia, he supposed. He closed his tear-filled eyes, letting out a bitter laugh. The audience was surely getting a great show; he knew he would be enjoying it if he was a viewer and not a piece of fresh meat. What would his father think? And his District? And Clove? They'd be disappointed; at least that's how he felt. Cato never thought he'd ever embrace death the way he was at that very moment. Seemed like the Hunger Games could even change the most cruel of the tributes.

The pain soon replaced any coherent thought there could possibly be in his mind, leaving only the smell of blood and sweat filling the cold night. When he could finally get a sound to come out of his throat, Cato's voice sounded pleading, and he knew for sure there wasn't a tad of dignity left in it.

"Please..."

When he opened his eyes, the sunlight coming from the outside made him wince. It all hurt. Every part of his tired and shattered body. He didn't want to look; he didn't want to find out that what was supporting his head didn't even have the shape of a body anymore. Suddenly, a blurry form hanging from the Cornucopia and blocking the light slightly caught his attention. He somehow recognized the two things that characterized Katniss, the girl on fire: a messy braid and a bow and arrow, which she was pointing at him right now. Cato closed his eyes and tried his best to imagine himself at home, training secretly to prepare for the Games... training to die. The sharp pain of the arrow didn't last long. Suddenly there was no more light, sound or pain. It had all disappeared.

"Thanks." He thought... or said; he wasn't sure.

!Who's dead now, blondie?", said a voice with a mocking tone he recognized almost immediately. Cato turned around -he could move his body perfectly now- to find a pair of hazel eyes staring at him. He had always hated that smug look, but at that moment all he could think about was how relieving it was to find it on that short and dark-haired girl's face.

"C'mon, we're late for our training", added Clove, rolling her eyes impatiently. Cato grinned and followed his District partner, glad that he had finally woken up from that nightmare. He was finally home.


End file.
